


Tracing

by zanthe



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24778666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanthe/pseuds/zanthe
Summary: Egil hadn't realized how touch-starved he was until a curious hand brushed his back.
Relationships: Egil/Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	Tracing

**Author's Note:**

> Been chipping away at/rewriting this for ages orz   
> there may be a part 2 if I decide to not be a coward and keep my promise to a certain someone but that's a big if.

It began with a bout of curiosity, a trait Egil knew, after years of working beside him, that Shulk could never mitigate. A gentle hand that traced the smooth metal of his shoulder and caught him entirely off guard. It wasn't that he could really feel it - it was more a sensation of pressure upon him, the armor there too thick to be truly felt - but rather, the action itself that was surprising enough to cause him to falter in his work. He stopped etching intricate patterns into their latest creation to observe Shulk out of the corner of his eye. Shulk didn't seem to notice, entranced by something on his back, but when the curious gaze melted into a frown as fingers grazed over an old wound, Egil realized what it was that had caught his companion's attention. 

"This was from..." Shulk whispered. Egil didn't meet his gaze.

"When you stabbed me, yes. Try not to mull over it." He responded. Shulk sighed, but didn't comment further, and the two sank back into their work, the Hom climbing further up the ladder he was on to reach the top of the mechon they were building.

Hand-crafting mechon was different from the factory built process Egil had created in preparation for war. It was slower, more delicate work, and Shulk had a knack for it, he'd admit. With years prior of experience in handicrafts, the young man had been quick to pick up on Machina techniques. He'd dedicated the last four years entirely to learning the craft, and his efforts were easy to see, though Egil wondered how Hom found the energy for such quick learning. Perhaps it was because of their shorter lifespans? The thought was dismissed immediately. 

"Did it hurt?" Shulk asked, interrupting his thoughts, but Egil kept his focus on soldering wires together. 

"Of course it did," Egil scoffed, "the Monado seared the wound shut before I could even bleed." Shulk winced, perhaps he'd been too blunt. "Are you worried I hold it against you?" Shulk didn't respond. He sighed, letting his voice soften, "I don't, and never could." The silence lingered uncomfortably as Shulk took in his words, Egil found himself nervous at a thought he'd yet to let slip. "Besides, I'm sure the battles I caused left you with worse scars than mine." 

It was quiet for a few minutes, Shulk began to step down from the ladder he was perched on, "The Monado's visions saved me from the worst of them," he began, "Sharla's healing saved me from the rest. Usually." He stopped when he got back on eye level with Egil and rolled up his oil-stained sleeve to reveal a faint scar on his forearm. "I got this one from the mechon attack back in Colony 9, before I even had the Monado. And this one," he yanked his sleeve back and lifted several layers of clothing to show three scars on his side, "I got this one from Metal Face, lucky his claws didn't get any further. And lastly," he picked up Egil's hand, guiding it to the back of his head, "I still have the marks from when you picked me up."

He frowned, feeling for the marks in the blond's scalp until his fingertips ran over them, faint, but still there. Egil removed his hand. "Are you trying to make me feel bad?"

"No," Shulk stated simply, "it's not like I hold them against you either, it was collateral damage. If anything, I find it a bit funny sometimes." 

"Funny?" Egil gave him a look, "how could you find any of it amusing?"

"Well, I guess I find it funny that five years ago, we wanted to kill each other, and now we're nearly inseparable." Shulk grinned.

The Machina snorted at that, "Speak for yourself, you're the one who can't spend a month without me, and then clings to me like moss on a tree the moment you're back here."

Shulk's grin didn't falter as he stepped onto the floor and began putting tools away, "You say that, but the look on your face says it all every time I come to visit." 

"Oh, does it?" Egil rolled his eyes, "tell me, what does my face betray that my words don't?" 

"Let's see," Shulk hummed in thought, "you get this pleased little look on your face every time you see me, you don't have any complaints about me sticking to you like moss on a tree, you're the one who tends to stick close to me when I bring my friends along with me, aaaand," there was a sly twinkle in his eye as he spoke, "Vanea tells me of how 'dreadfully bored' you look the following days after I leave." 

Damn it all. "So Vanea told you that, did she?" Egil grumbled, "fine, fine, you win, I enjoy your company." He packed away engraving tools as he spoke, "Really, though, how were you so quick to forgive?" 

"I'm not sure," Shulk responded, "I guess, maybe because I felt I would've done the same if our roles had been reversed. We've moved on from all that, though."

"Have we? You're the one who brought it up. Why the sudden interest in my scar, anyways?" 

"Hm? Oh." He scratched his cheek in thought, "Well, honestly, that wasn't really what caught my attention, at least not at first..." Shulk trailed off.

Egil pressed on, curious now more than before. "Really? What was it then?" Shulk turned his head away sheepishly, and Egil leaned down to pester him, "You're not getting out of this one Shulk, tell me." 

"Maybe later," he laughed, but was lifted off the ground by his sides as he tried to step away. "Hey!" 

"I'm not putting you down until you tell me." Egil smirked, watching as Shulk's face went from a startled panic to a full pout.

"I said later!" He tried to weasel out of Egil's grip, but was simply held tighter. 

"Then I will put you down later," Egil replied, moving Shulk to hold him under his arm. The Hom man crossed his arms in indignation.

"You can't carry me like this forever." Shulk mumbled, hanging limply in his arm.

"I could carry you for hours, or you could tell me and I'll put you down." Shulk glared up at him for a few seconds before letting out an agonized groan.

"I'll tell you if you put me down!" He muttered. Egil didn't buy it. "C'mon, I promise!"

Egil stared down at him thoughtfully. It wasn't like he'd be able to run that far, stamina was not Shulk's blessing, after all. Although, maybe this was enough playing around already. Egil sighed and set Shulk down on a table, staring expectantly. "Tell me, then."

Shulk tapped his shoes together nervously, eyes darting around as he stammered, "Ok, fine, well. I. Uh..." He leaned back, focusing his gaze on the ceiling. "It's just," he pursed his lips shut. This was getting a little annoying.

"Shulk?" 

"I was curious!" he blurted out, "it's awkward to say it out loud, I want to know what you feel like?" Shulk was blushing now, red as a tomato, and maybe, vaguely, he was, too. This was...

"Unexpected..." Shulk blinked at his words, Egil shook off the disgruntled feeling, "you're curious about what I feel like?" The blond nodded shyly, and Egil hummed, "I wasn't sure what you were going to tell me, but certainly not this." The man looked like he was about to apologize, but Egil continued before he could say anything, "Find out, then." He placed his hand palm up on Shulk's lap and watched as he flinched.

He stared down at Egil's hand, then up at his face, "are you sure?" He asked, hesitant, and Egil nodded. He stared at his friend's hand again, slowly bringing his own hands to hold it.

It wasn't like he hadn't held it before, but he'd never exactly gotten time to really register how it felt. It wasn't cold, though not exactly warm either, but it  _ was  _ smooth, the light grey portions felt more leathery than metallic, and the black portions were more metallic, but malleable. The back of his hand was similar, and he smoothed his fingers over the orange dots on his knuckles, which had a stranger texture. Like glass, but not quite. 

Next, he felt up the armored sleeve, hand against the underside of his arm, feeling more leathery skin. Egil seemed to narrow his eyes at the feeling of Shulk's hand up his sleeve, but there was no protest, so Shulk continued.

As he did, Egil let his mind wander a bit. He didn't know if he was uncomfortable, or if this would be more pleasant if it weren't overstimulating. One thing for sure, he hadn't thought about it that much before, but it seemed he was touch-starved. Each of Shulk's gentle touches, be it on skin or metal, sent a chill to his core, and he didn't want him to stop, even if it was intimidating just how much he felt. 

A hand traced the patterns on his arm, blue gaze fixed intently on them, and Egil let out a grunt of surprise as Shulk tugged him just a little closer, other hand placed on his chest. Every few moments, Shulk would look up and meet his gaze questioningly, and Egil would simply nod his permission. 

He watched through half-lidded eyes as Shulk continued exploring, and took a moment to sate his own curiosity as he ran his fingers through his hair. It was soft, and proved an engaging distraction, as he didn't even notice Shulk pause while he combed blond locks neatly into place. "You don't think much of your hair, do you?" He murmured, and the Hom shrugged. 

"Not particularly, unless it's tangled." Shulk responded, running a fingernail down the grooves of Egil's sleeve repeatedly, seemingly entranced by the little clicks. His attention then snapped up to Egil's face, hands about to touch but then flinching away. "May I?" He remembered to ask, and the Machina nodded, leaning down a little as curious fingertips brushed over the grooves above his jawline, the lines across his lips, the small circles on his cheeks. 

Shulk's hands were so warm, Egil realized as he closed his eyes, not knowing where to look. It was a little embarrassing looking directly at Shulk at the moment. 

Abruptly, Egil stepped back, "That's enough," he said with a long sigh, holding Shulk's wrists away from his face. 

"Ah, my bad," Shulk frowned apologetically, blinking when Egil didn't let go of his wrists. 

"No, it was not because of you," the Machina shook his head, loosening his grip just enough to hold Shulk's hands instead, staring down at them thoughtfully. "Machina are a social kind, as you Homs are. You're aware of this, yes?" Shulk nodded, and he continued, intertwining their fingers together, a touch amused by the difference in size, "I forced myself into isolation, and grew unaccustomed to physical contact, so it is... overwhelming, to say the least. I don't mind this as much, though," he added with a whisper, "Has your curiosity been satisfied?" 

"Yes," Shulk nodded again, smiling, "Thank you." 

"Good." Egil stated bluntly, and pulled his hands away, "Shall we get back to work?" 

Shulk slid off the table, landing on his feet, "Yeah, sounds like a good idea," he stretched, tilting his head to one side when he noticed Egil was still looking at him. "Something else you wanted to say?" 

Egil nodded curtly, "In the future, should you... wish to hold hands again, you needn't ask." 

"I see..." He hummed, and for a heartbeat Egil felt perhaps he shouldn't have been so quick to say such a thing, but when Shulk held his hand once more that worry melted away. 

"Shulk, we have work to do," the Machina grumbled, but didn't move. 

"I know, but that can wait a minute more." Oh, he didn't need to be looking at the Hom anymore to know he was wearing a cheeky grin. 

"I suppose..." Egil sighed, a trace of a smile on his own lips. Yes, it could wait, if only for a moment.


End file.
